


strike three

by fenying



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Thieves, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Complicated Relationships, Heist, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27041854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenying/pseuds/fenying
Summary: “Well, that’s no way to greet an old friend, now, is it?” says Donghyuck. “Lovely evening we’re having, gentlemen. Aren’t you going to let me in?”
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Zhong Chen Le, Huang Ren Jun/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 11
Kudos: 48





	strike three

**Author's Note:**

  * For [englishsummerrain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/englishsummerrain/gifts).



> happy birthday to an amazing friend and a stellar writer, the one and only yoon englishsummerrain! here is a dongrenle for twitter user dongrenle

Chenle kisses the barrel of the pistol before firing off two shots, clean, and all Renjun can think is _he’s literally unhinged._

“Did you like that?” His voice comes murmuring in through Renjun’s earpiece, silky smooth. Renjun can see the exact moment he locates the camera in the room, grinning at it before there’s a _crack_ and the screen turns black.

“You’re making a mess of things,” says Renjun, switching video feeds. “It was supposed to be in and out, quick.”

“Oh baby, you know that’s not my style,” Chenle hums, moving into the next room after hiding the bodies. Renjun blows the video up on the screen. “And I know you like watching.”

Renjun scoffs, leaning back in his seat. There’s an uncharacteristic tightness in his throat that he tries to swallow down. “Well, I’m not the one doing cleanup.”

“Aw, what,” Chenle whines. “How am I supposed to explain _that_?”

“Should’ve thought of that before you killed them.”

“They were in my way,” says Chenle, petulant. Renjun watches him wriggle his body into the vents overhead. A loud coughing noise enters his earpiece. “This is the worst fucking way in.”

“It’s the only way in,” says Renjun, tapping his foot. He has a bad feeling about all of this. “Now hurry up, you only have ten minutes before the guards rotate.”

“Jeez, wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?” Chenle asks, sliding the grate back into place. “Thought last night would’ve taken the edge off a little—”

“ _Chenle._ ”

Chenle falls silent. The absence of sound itches hot under Renjun’s skin. “Alright, alright,” he says finally, sober. “Tell me where I’m going, _laoda_.”

“Vaguely east,” says Renjun. “I don’t have a visual on the layout of the vents, but I’ll let you know if you’re going the wrong way.”

“Yessir.”

Other than the occasional grunting sound on Chenle’s end as he crawls through the vents, the line goes quiet. Renjun focuses his attention elsewhere, switching back and forth between different video feeds. Something’s not quite right.

Last month, they’d been approached by a potential client for a job: stealing a gem from a big mafia family abroad. Fairly standard, and simple enough—except even after they met up with the client, Renjun couldn’t shake off the impression that the person they'd met wasn’t actually him, but a liaison he’d sent in their stead.

“Don’t most of these guys look like normal salarymen?” asked Chenle, sitting slouched against the headboard of the bed in their hotel room. Renjun watched him toss an open switchblade into the air, over and over, catching it by the handle every time. “What’s so off about this one?”

Renjun looked away, pulling his boxers back on just for something to do with his hands. He didn't really have the energy for it—wanted nothing more than to lie back down and close his eyes, completely spent—but he'd already given into one too many vices today to not punish himself at least a little. It was always best to keep a distance, even if this was a useless sentiment now, after the fact. “You can see it in the eyes,” he said. “You can try to dress it down as much as you want, but anyone deep in this business has something behind the eyes that you can’t hide.”

Chenle flipped the knife closed. When he leaned forward, the white bathrobe he'd slipped into earlier fell open to expose his bare chest. He hadn’t bothered to tie it properly. “And this guy…”

“Didn’t have it,” Renjun confirmed. “I don’t even think the name he gave us was real.”

Chenle snorted. “God knows Lee Jihoon is common enough. So what are we gonna do, then?”

Renjun had been mulling it over ever since they got back to the hotel. They didn’t _need_ to take the job. For now, they were well off enough to get by without it, and Renjun didn’t like the idea of agreeing to an operation where the other party clearly had something to hide. Too many unknown factors, and the risks outweighed the benefits.

But the fact remained that they hadn’t had any actual work in months, and Renjun was starting to feel the familiar itch of inactivity again. He was getting antsy, and that was never good because when Renjun got _antsy_ , he got _reckless_ , and a reckless Renjun did a lot of stupid things that were bound to end badly for him. Case in point: ten minutes ago.

Chenle stared at him, owlish eyes gleaming in the darkness. Renjun looked out the open window, the glitzy lights of city nightlife a distant memory.

“We’ll do it,” said Renjun, sounding a lot more decisive than he felt. “That is, if you don’t have problems with it.”

“If you don’t, then I don’t,” said Chenle, lying back and flipping the knife open again. The blade spun perfect circles in the air, up and down and up again. “It’s your call, _laoda_.”

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

“Two minutes.”

“Shit,” Chenle wheezes. “Please tell me I’m close.”

“Almost there,” says Renjun. “Keep going. It should be the next grate you run into.”

Renjun keeps switching back and forth between different camera views, mentally retracing their steps in his head. Aside from Chenle’s little hiccup with the two men earlier, the whole thing had gone smoothly—too smoothly. It had been so simple to find out the schedule for guard rotations, and the security system hadn't been difficult to dismantle. Even Chenle’s entrance had been seamless. Everything had been too easy. Renjun knows he’s good, but he’s not _that_ good.

“I’m here.”

“T minus 30 seconds.” Renjun switches to the camera positioned right outside the room with the diamond. He can’t see past the locked door, but it should be empty inside—the family head didn’t trust anyone inside with the gems. The faster they do this, the better, though. “And— go.”

There’s the sound of metal sliding against metal, some muffled cursing, and then a soft _thump_ as Chenle lands neatly on the floor, catlike. Renjun works on disabling the remaining security, fingers flying across the keyboard as he keeps an eye on the camera feed. He looks up just as the guards rotate, right on time. The commotion of the switch should be enough to distract them from any noise Chenle might make, however slight— _wait._

Renjun zooms in on the new guard, eyes running over his build. From Renjun’s research, he’s supposed to be 190 cm and dark-haired, but the man on his screen is blond and can’t be more than 175 cm, at most. That isn’t what alarms Renjun the most, though. There are two things:

One: the flash of metal in his hand as he spins a keyring on his finger.

Two: the casual, self-assured, half-slouched and 100% alert stance that Renjun would recognize anywhere.

“Fuck.” Renjun watches in abject horror as the new guard approaches the door and tries to jimmy the lock open. This was _definitely_ not part of the plan. “Chenle, get out of there now.”

“Now?” asks Chenle, half out of breath. “You said I’d have more time—”

“Now!”

Renjun climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the engine of the van, moving towards the rendezvous point. His only saving grace is that the lock is so rusted from disuse that it’s taking the guard longer to open it, but that won’t buy them much time. “Seriously, Chenle, you need to get out—”

“Hold on, I’m doing the switch right now—”

“Chenle—”

“Wait, shut up,” says Chenle, and Renjun does, biting off an exasperated hiss. “Is someone trying to _open the door_?”

“Yes,” Renjun grits out, “which is why you need to leave, _now_ —”

The rest of the sentence dies in his throat when the guard pauses to turn around and look straight at the camera. Even through the grainy video feed, Renjun knows that face. He'd recognize it _anywhere_. Lee Donghyuck, in the flesh, winks and blows a kiss at the camera before returning his attention to the door.

_What the fuck is he doing here?_

“Chenle, I swear to God—”

Renjun’s blood runs cold as the lock finally gives, the door swinging open to reveal—nothing. Nothing in the room except for the diamond in the case. Presumably, it’s the fake, but Renjun doesn’t know and he really doesn’t care to stick around long enough to find out.

“I’m here,” says Renjun, shifting the engine into neutral and climbing back into the back seat. He only has a second to see Donghyuck shrug, unfazed, before shutting the feed down. “Any day now.”

“I’m out, _laoda_ ,” comes crackling over the line, and Renjun’s never been so glad to hear Chenle’s voice in his life. “Gimme a second, I’m almost—”

The door to the driver’s seat opens, and Chenle scrambles in, ripping off his gear with a gasp. “You ready?”

“Go,” says Renjun, tapping in the last keys to disconnect himself from the program. Chenle presses down on the pedal, and the van jolts to life. “I knew this was a bad idea, holy shit.”

“Who the fuck was that?” asks Chenle, panting. When Renjun doesn’t answer, he says, “You recognized him, didn’t you.”

“Unfortunately.”

Chenle lets out a disbelieving huff. “Who is he, your ex-boyfriend or something?”

Renjun laughs darkly. “Worse.”

“Pack your shit up,” says Renjun, as soon as they get back to the hotel. They’d only bothered to switch cars once, hadn’t even gone on the planned detour. There was no use for that anymore—the only thing was to get out, as fast as possible. “We’re leaving now.”

“Now?” asks Chenle, shutting the door behind him. “Our flight is ten hours from now.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Renjun throws his equipment into a suitcase, shoving it under some clothes with reckless abandon. “We can fly out as soon as we get there, I’ll call in a favor—”

“Hold up, why exactly are you in such a rush to leave?” asks Chenle. “You didn’t even ask if I got the damn jewel— I did, by the way, you’re welcome—”

“I’ll explain later, just—”

There’s a knock on the door, three raps and a pause before another two raps. Renjun stills, forcing a harsh exhale out through his nose. “Fuck.”

Chenle pauses in the middle of packing his own things. “Who…”

The knock repeats. “Well?” says Renjun, throwing a glance at the door when neither of them have moved an inch. “Open it, then.”

Chenle’s eyes flick nervously between him and the door, but he obeys. Renjun straightens up when the door opens, biting back another curse.

“Who are you?” asks Chenle. “Don’t you know how late it is?”

“Well, that’s no way to greet an old friend, now, is it?” says Donghyuck, a cattish smirk on his face. “Lovely evening we’re having, gentlemen. Aren’t you going to let me in?”

Chenle looks back at Renjun, but Renjun hasn’t looked away once from Donghyuck. “Let him in.”

As soon as he crosses the threshold, Renjun levels a gun at his head, clicking the safety off. “Sit down,” he says, jerking his head towards the little two-seat table at the side of the room. “Why don’t we catch up.”

“Well, this wasn't the warm welcome I was hoping for, but I suppose it is rather like you," says Donghyuck, like it's a joke and he's the only one in on it. Renjun keeps the gun trained on him as he raises empty hands and crosses the room.

Chenle’s gaze is heavy on the side of his face. Renjun ignores it. “Don’t try any funny shit, or I’ll blow your brains out.”

“Oh, I have absolutely no doubt that you will,” says Dongyuck, _still_ smiling. Renjun fucking hates him. “You’re still the best shot I’ve ever met, Injoonie, you know that?”

“Don’t call me that,” Renjun snaps. “What are you doing here? Why were you at the safehouse earlier?”

Donghyuck sits down, slouching into the seat and kicking his feet up. He looks for all the world as if this is _his_ place and Renjun and Chenle are the intruders here. “No need to be so hostile. A man has the right to be wherever he wants to be, doesn’t he? What if I heard an old friend was in town and wanted to say hi?”

“Lee Donghyuck, you have five seconds to talk before I—”

“Fine, fine,” says Donghyuck, a petulant whine in his voice. He cups his chin in one hand, his posture casual enough to belie the weight of his gaze. Renjun tightens his grip on the gun, stomach churning. Only one person has always made him feel like the floor is about to be pulled out from under him like this. “Since you insist on being absolutely no fun, _Huang Renjun_ , let me get straight to business. I have a proposition for you two.”


End file.
